Another List

I know that it seems like this blog is full of melodrama. Sorry, but lately I've had a bit too much of it in my life. John Mayer sings about a "quarter life crisis" in one of his songs. I think I may be experiencing some of the symptoms. I don't really know how to explain what exactly it is that is going on in my head, but it just feels like something is bugging me all the time. I need to pinpoint that and dig until I find the root. It is a large mix of things that keeps picking at me, grief, cynisism, emotions, forgetfulness, stress, feelings of being constantly overwhelmed- this "to-do list" in my mind, and on my fridge, never ends. Well, now there is one in my heart. I need something new, something fresh to rekindle some of the trueness in life. Something to begin to bring back the "me" that I feel is missing. I think only then will I feel 100% satisfied with my life, my marriage, my parenting skills, my career choices, school, etc. But the question is where do I get that and how. I know in my head that it comes from a deeper relationship with the Lord. One that I feel is almost nonextistant right now. I don't know why, it's just one of the things that gets pushed back because of "too much to do". I'm going to Colorado in a couple of weeks. I know that for some reason the mountains tend to have the same effect on me as they do on Matt. They refresh, they demand your attention, they offer something peaceful to look at. Plus, it's a vacation. This will give me time to just sit. Wow, sitting is something I really look forward to. But sitting in a coffeeshop with my journal is more than I could ask for right now. And I'm getting it, soon. I guess my prayer for the coming year is that God would reopen my hardening heart and bring forth some perspective. I've never really believed in New Years Resolutions, I've always been the "you should just do that all the time" kind of girl. But perhaps I should indulge and make myself a little list...
* Pray more, or, just pray at all- this is definitely something that I am not spending enough time doing. I don't know why, but there are things in my life that desparately need prayer- my marriage, Ava, school, future choices, etc.
* Spend more time, more valuable time, with my husband. That is pretty self-explanatory.
* Find the deep joy- I've always heard ,hrough the Christian circles,about this "deep and lasting joy" that we are supposed to experience. What is it? Where is the root? How do I get it? Sounds like a whole other blog opportunity- "Searching for Joy"
* Clean out my car- Ok, not the most important, soul affecting resolution, but my car is down right nasty.
* Read the Bible more- I think that this one will help with resolutions 1 and 3...

I'm not going to give myself any more, as I really think that this is a ton for me to work on. What I am hoping is that they all sort of overlap and help eachother. Even cleaning out my car. I really think that may be the first step to the Deep Joy thing...

That's all for now.
C

irvington

A word of advice.. never drive through your old neighborhood when you are sad. I made that mistake last night, and I could barely see to drive through all the tears and snot that welled up instantly on my face. My childhood home, elementary shool and high school are all in a 1/2 mile radius. Just being in that part of town brings back the most intense memories. It's not even like a memory, it's like stepping back in time and living my former life. But nothing is the same now, that house is empty, all my teachers are gone...
c

Happy Birthday Dad

Well, today is one of those days that sort of sneaks up on you after you lose someone. Although I have thought about it a lot, I didn't really know what to expect to feel on my dad's first birthday after being gone. He would have been 51 today. We're going to drive out to the cemetery later today. Unfortunately we don't even have a marker yet. What do you put on a man's grave? Flowers? Last year I gave my dad a one pound bag of peanut m&m's. His favorite. Maybe I should buy a bag and sprinkle some of those on the ground instead. Mmmm, possibly too irreverent, but dad would laugh his ass off. Something good though, I bought my plane ticket to San Francisco last night. It's official. I'll be there from the 3rd to the 9th and I am MORE than excited. For some reason, it's one place that I have always, always wanted to go. It was possibly all of that flying around with YWAM, but I have really grown to love being in an airport. Especially by myself.
That's all for now.
c

sorry, no funny title ideas

Well, here I sit at Shades, sipping a latte with a hint of almond out of a really great pottery mug. Alone. And I wanted it that way. What is it about retreating from life sometimes that is necessary and just plain feels good. Lately I've wanted much more of this time than I am actually getting. But, life with a six month old rarely allows for it. She's worth it though. So, let's see- where am I in the grieving process? I don't know. I don't even know what all of the steps are. Guilt, anger, bargaining, denial, resolution or acceptance? How about depression and blank-mindedness. Ok, I know, I sound like a cliff jumper. It's really not that bad. It's just that I know that there are some steps that are supposed to be naturally occuring, and I don't feel them. Maybe this whole thing isn't supposed to have a real order to it. But because of the organized person that I am, I would much rather have some kind of schedule or something. Ok, week three- "bargaining": Begin this week by focusing all of your attention on trying to bargain with God. Say things like, "Oh God, if you would just give him/her back, I'll do anything you want"... Sounds a bit odd to me. I guess I'll just continue to fumble through this thing and hope that I reach the other side someday. Although, as long as August 7th extists I don't think I'll really ever make it there...
c

bittersweet

I've lately decided that my least favorite emotion is bittersweet. Unless it's chocolate, I don't want it. Bittersweet means that it should be good, but there is an element of sadness thrown in. Something is missing. Someone is missing. Usually this emotion hits at times of should-be elation, pulling it down a couple of notches. As a bride, I was thrilled to be slipping on my dress and walking down the aisle. But Danette wasn't there, and everytime I remembered it the smile fell away from my face. My dad is gone, but birthdays happen anyway.. I relate the feeling of bittersweet to the morning after losing someone you love. There is a forgetfulness in the morning, wich is sometimes a blessing. But the light of day following the loss is different. That realization hits you after sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. All you want to do is go back to sleep. A fresh day tarnished from the beginning. That is bittersweet.
Sorry to be a downer. I did get a camera for my birthday...

Grief teaches the steadiest minds to waver.... Sophocles

This thing that had happened is fresh, perplexing, unnerving, and permanent. I have lost my dad. The actual time and date was August 7, 2007 at 10:35 pm. I was laying in bed, unable to sleep because I was unable to shut off my mind, and my phone rand. As soon as I saw who was calling, I handed the phone to Matt. I already knew what she had to say. It was my step mom and my dad was gone. She said that he just stopped breathing, as if he fell asleep. I cannot describe to you the feelings that followed. But I'll try. Relief. Disbelief. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Guilt. Silence. We got out of bed, put on our clothes and headed over to the Clare House. For any of you who haven't heard me talk about this place, you need to check it out. If ever there was a worthy cause, this is it. www.Clarehouse.org. The three days following were a total blur. Planning a funeral is similar to planning a wedding. Minus the joy, excitement, smiling, and lookng forward to a vacation. It's basically all of the details crammed into three days with grief and anger instead of happiness. Over all it's exhausting.
Something that I haven't quite wrapped my head around yet is that I saw my dad not breathing. There's something funny about seeing someone that you love as a, well, corpse. The mind has a way of compensating for their lack of breathing, and the eyes play tricks on you. So, while I was sitting there looking at my dad, he still looked like he had when I had seen him the day before. Peaceful, sleeping. Only he was also oddly vacant. Dad wasn't really in there. And I think that's the reason that people never look quite the same dead as they do alive. After they embalmed dad and got him ready, we started the viewing the following morning. The first thing I thought was, that's not dad. And it wasn't. I'm sure he was experiencing something sublime as I was at the height of my grief. If I envision it, I see him in heaven as someone young again, around the age of thirty. Let me just tell you, if you weren't at the service, or haven't seen pictures of my dad around that time- he was devestatingly good looking. Could've been a movie star. I'm too tired to say more at the moment, but here is what I said when I spoke at the funeral.

I honestly don’t know where to begin. Throughout my life, dad has been a strong force and sometimes a force to be reckoned with. I will walk away from today with more memories and life skills than I could have ever dreamed of receiving in my short 23 years with dad. One of the very first things that dad taught me was how to love coffee. One of my earliest memories is of getting dad a refill on Saturday morning. He loved to stay in bed and read the paper, and it was my job (with mom’s help) to fetch him more of that wonderful drink. Later in my life we would meet at a coffee shop down the street from my house and talk over steaming mugs.
There are many things that many people loved about Bill Newport, and these things are what have taught me some of my greatest life lessons. We all know that dad had a sort of charisma that could light up a room. I’m sure that as soon as he walked into a place people either knew him or believed that they did. It seemed that he left a lasting mark on anyone he came into contact with. Something that I loved about dad was his amazingly convincing manner. Dad could really sell anything to anyone. But it didn’t really feel like he was pitching something to you. It was as if you just sat down with him and the two of you came up with a really great idea together. And then the sale was done, and you walked away feeling like you just made a new friend. This was how dad taught me charisma.
Dad was also an avid electronic lover. Anyone who has ever been to our house has either heard the surround sound or witnessed the tweaking process. What sounded like the same noise over and over to others sounded distinctly different to dad. He always had his ears perked, listening for that perfect balance. This was how dad taught me the importance of the subtle things in life.
When I was in the second grade, I had a bit of a problem staying quiet during class. Although I don’t remember, they say I was a bit too social and talked too much at times when I should have been quiet. Needless to say, it got to a point that some punishment was required. Dad came up with something that was grueling and not quickly completed. He made me write a thousand sentences. Over Christmas break. If I remember correctly, it took me two full weeks to finish. This was how dad taught me to know when to be quiet.
My whole life I watched dad coach countless boys on the mat. I remember spending every weekend, and some weeknights, from October to March in a wrestling room or gymnasium. I saw dad coach all weekend long, from early in the morning to late at night. I saw him stay late on Fridays with the boys who didn’t make weight, encouraging them while they ran laps around the gym. I saw him celebrate the victories and pat the backs of those who didn’t win. I saw him give his all to the sport year after year after year. This was how dad taught me passion.
Over the past couple of years, dad entered a deeply reflective time in his life. Occasionally he would call me to apologize about something he thought had hurt me. Even incidences from years ago came into his mind, and there he would be, tearful on the other end of the phone saying he was sorry for whatever it was he thought he had done. This was how dad taught me humility.
Towards the end of his life, dad was in an immense amount of pain. I won’t go into detail, but just know that to know he is not hurting anymore is one of the most relieving things that will ever happen to me. But somehow, through it all, dad managed to keep his wonderful sense of humor. Despite what he was facing, and all of the pain he felt every day he managed to make us laugh. This is how dad taught me spirit. Bill Newport was many things to many people. A friend, a husband, a coach, a brother, a husband, a son, a co-worker, a husband. To me, he was one of the best teachers I have ever had. Walk away from today knowing that dad loved you, and always remember the things that he taught you.

..cwn..

Ok, I'll try to do this without sounding morbid, pity-seeking, or otherwise distraught. After a recent trip to the hospital, my dad is now in the care of a hospice-like setup called the Clarehouse. He is non-responsive and fading fast. In 1999 he was diagnosed with prostate cancer. After about two years of treatment he went into remission. Last January his cancer returned. He was ok until about six weeks ago, when he went into the hospital the first time. He had pneumonia and we discovered that the cancer had spread to his arms, legs, and spinal cord. He began feeling a little better and returned home. Three weeks ago he went back into the hospital with intense migraines and nausea. It was then that we found out that the cancer was now in his skull, and he had swelling of the brain caused by something in his spinal fluid and the covering over his brain. Where things are now is that he most likely won't wake up again.
So, obviously a few things are going through my mind at a time like this...
I am understanding that there are some things that I will never get to do with my dad again. And, because I like lists for their therapeudic stress-releiving properties, they are as follows:
-swim (dad would sunburn so bad it made him ill, literally. He threw up from it)
-go see a movie (which dad loved doing, even in the middle of a work day. It pays to own your own business!)
-go to the lake (which was our summer activity for my whole childhood)
-drink coffee (my love for coffee, I believe, was hereditery. My earliest memories are helping my mom get my dad another cup of coffee)
-ski (the family's winter vacation of choice)
-have philosophical debates
-talk about anything literary or english related (we're both English majors, one of his favorite authors was C. S. Lewis. He wrote poetry up to about a month ago)
-watch movies at home, in the surround sound (any of you who know my dad will probably have many memories of him back behind the entertainment center with his glasses on and a flashlight in hand, fidgeting with the surround sound...)
-shoot pool (I've only ever beat him once.)
the list goes on....

c

i heart lists

My closest friends will know that I love making lists. I do it all the time. Well, I've been thinking lately about life; how short it is, how fast it flies by. I decided it's time to get serious about a list of things I want to do before I die. I know, sounds morbid. But I hope that it will be empowering. I don't think I'll set a number, and I may not get them all down today. But I'll add as I think of things:
-write a book
-have more kids
-own horses
-visit all the places I desire (that's another list by itself)
-skydive
-snorkel
-scuba dive
-get my tattoo removed
-get in shape
-build a house
-audition for a movie part
-read the Bible front to back
-trace my ancestry and visit where my family began
-have (and not kill) a beautiful garden
-renew my vows

c

...sigh...

I'm at school two hours early. Reason being that I am supposed to be reading yet another fascinating Fantasy Literature novel. Now, I know that the only thing here at school that could possibly keep me from doing so was the computer lab. And that's exactly where I am right now. I only feel half bad about it because I hardly ever get a)time to myself, b)time alone on the computer, c)perfect peace and quiet and, d)did I mention time to myself? So, I choose to indulge for a few mintues before diving back into the world of Terry Pratchett. He's not so bad, really. I just think it's funny that his "about the author" in the back of the book states that he is "one of the most popular living authors in the world." Hmmmm. Why hadn't I ever heard of him before two months ago? I do read, people. I guess I must prefer dead authors over prideful living ones.
Oh well, off to read.
sigh
c

she's clever, folks.

My mom was joking, my brother won't really have a z shaped scar. Here's Ava's first bow...
c

one-armed brothers, shots, and rainy days

My brother will have a z shaped scar when this is all said and done. He had surgery yesterday to repair a torn rotater cuff. It was torn 270 out of 360 degrees. Ouch. So I spent the day at the outpatient surgicenter, waiting for him to get out. I had to sit there and listen to the story of the pregnant girl who was murdered over and over... It was either that story or about how the Lake Tahoe area is disappearing into fire. Needless to say I was tired of hearing all of the same details over and over, so I took the time to finish reading my fascinating Fantasy Lit. book. Let me just tell you, I think Kahlan went a little overboard when she painted all of those weird sybols on her face and went on a rampage. And Richard really had me freaked out there for a minute. But, no worries, it all ended up, though rather quickly and without much detail, well. I have to agree with my teacher that this author is definitely one of those people who writes themself into the story- and lives out some very strange fantasies.
And, as if my life couldn't get any more exciting with all of this wizard reading that I'm doing, I had to take my baby to get shots today. The events are as follows:

-Took her in and had her weighed. She weighed fifteen pounds and fifteen ounces. (I thought she was getting hevier!).
-Talked to the doctor about her skin (she's got a little rash), spitting up, and whether or not to start feeding her solid food.
-Re-dressed her and played with her on the table that has the paper on it. She kept kicking her feet because she liked how it sounded, crunchy.
-Nurse came in and administered shot number one.
-Ava's face turned three shades of red, her eyes immediately burst forth with tears, and she did the no-breathing-cry.
-We paid and left.

Now, for those of you who don't know what the no-breathing-cry is, let me explain. As soon as she realized that there was a pinching, stinging sensation, she drew in the deepest breath she could, screamed that one out and refused to take another. For a good five seconds. I almost blew in her face to get her to breathe again. This was the crying method of both of my little brothers, and it used to scare the crap out of me. This one means "Ok, you jerk. Whatever it was that you just did to me was REALLY mean, so I'm going to show you how pissed I am!" She's already a master at it...

If only she realized that it took all I had not to cry right along with her.

c

come on people

Ok, I'm going to stand on my soap box for a moment. I don't know if anyone else has noticed, but people are murdering people way too much these days. I know, that sounds kind of dumb. But it's as if being a mom has made me more aware of the things that are going on around me. First there was the little boy who died here in Tulsa because the home daycare person that was taking care of him (I say "taking care" but this was hardly that) duct taped his hands and feet and put tape over his mouth. She's being tried for murder. Then, another mom somewhere else decided it would be a great idea to tape her son's pacifier to his face. Apparently he was spitting it out over and over so she thought she would help him keep it in. He died. He was four months old, the same age as Ave. Then, a man decided to kill his nine-month-pregnant ex-girlfriend. He was a police officer. He was even assigned to the search. They had named the baby Chloe- now she'll never get a chance to live. It just sickens me. I feel like this world is not going to last much longer. I mean, how could it. At some point, God is going to say- ENOUGH! This is All I CAN TAKE! And be done with it.
Forgive me my little rant, but I'm sick of people killing people. Especially children. I'm going to go kiss my baby now.
c

i'm a horrible mother

Today, for the first time, I realized that I can't be too prideful about my new-mom skills. Last night, I came home from class and found that Ava was still asleep from a nap that started at 6:15. This was great because she had been fighting it all day and really needed to get some good rest. She slept until 9:00, so I went in and got her to feed her. She barely even woke up, so I put her right back down after she ate. No big deal, right? She slept all night and Ididn't hear from her until about 6:45 this morning. This is the sad part.
I went into her room and found her on her tummy (she's started rolling over from back to front, but can't get back over) in a near-puddle of pee. She was soaked, the sheets were soaked, her blanket was soaked. Then it struck me that I didn't change her diaper before I put her back down for the night. Basically she hadn't had her diaper changed in over 12 hours!!! You can only imagine the feeling of grief that washed over me. I felt HORRIBLE!!! My poor sweet baby, laying there in her own pee!
Needless to say, I stripped off her clothes, stripped off the sheets, threw them in the washing machine and her into the tub. Today was her first 7 am bath. Bless her little heart.

She immediately forgave me, and had a blast splashing in the tub which completely soaked me.

Baby payback.

cass

here's her first swim

this one is a little serious...

Ok. I know it's been a while since I posted anything. And, granted, I've been very busy. But I think there are other reasons that I haven't had anything to say. One is that I didn't want to just put on a happy face and type some fluffy stuff from my day. As you can see, I've been doing a little bit of soul searching and I'm coming up with some stuff that I didn't expect. And, while this may appear one day to the people I'll be talking about- I have given up on caring. If they see it, they see it.



I'm realizing a lot about trust, intentions, and taking people at their word.



For the one or two of you that actually read this thing, you probable are aware of a bit of my family drama. For those of you who may stumble upon this and not know, let me give you a brief overview.



*My dad was married twice before my mom. He had a baby with his second wife. Lindsey is her name and I didn't find out about her until I was eleven years old. That's a whole story by itself.

*My mom remarried, divorced and remarried again. The man that she is married to now is wonderful. A long-time family friend, and someone I consider to be a great man for my mom.

*My dad met a woman, married and divorced again.

*In 1999 he was diagnosed with advanced aggressive prostate cancer. It went into remission, and has now returned.



Ok, this is really brief and leaves out a lot of the story. But, I feel a bit of hesitance about putting all of the details out there. I'm still new at this whole blogging thing and I'm not sure I'm ready to lay my whole life open for anyone to see... That being said, I would still like to vent for a moment about how I'm feeling about some things that are going on in my crazy family world right now.



People are foolish, selfish, greedy and cruel.



Now, I know that sounds harsh. But based on the way that some people are acting in the current situation- it's nothing less than the truth. It is a hard thing to wake up one morning and have a realization that some people didn't care as much about you as you always thought they had. I know this is all really vauge, but the people who know me understand. And those who don't know me well enough to know everything I'm talking about are free to call me. I'd love to tell the story. In fact, that's one thing that I'm thinking about doing. Writing a book and telling the story to everyone, so that someone out there can breathe deeper knowing there's someone that they can relate to. But I guess I better feel comfortable enough to put it all on a blog before I publish the story! Oh well, baby steps.

I'm off to class to talk about wizards.

cass

mmmmm.... wizards

So, as my few (possible only one) readers know, I've been through the emotional ringer over the last couple of weeks. Here's a brief update:
1. Dad is now home again and breathing normally, thank God.
2. He just finished a five day radiation treatment, which involved me driving about fifty miles a day to get him there and home.
3. My class started this week.

Ok, there is more to be said about the last item on that list. This is no ordinary class. This is Fantasy Literature. While trying not to sound judgemental I have to say that there is a certain type of person that takes this class. Besides myself and Leslie, who need it for an elective, only people who spend hours playing online games or reading long series of books about dragons, magic, or witches have enrolled in this class. Now, I have to admit that there are some books that I love that technically fall into this category. Chronicles of Narnia and some of Ray Bradbury's stories are things that I love. But this class is going to be interesting. We've only had two classes and already we've watched a movie about "ringers", people who are obsessed with Lord of the Rings. This is serious, folks, one lady sold her house to travel to New Zealand for the premier of the last movie... Wow.

Needless to say, its exhausting...

use your freaking call button

Well, I've been pretty busy over the last few days. You can read on my myspace about the details, but I've been in and out of the hospital seeing my dad. Also, I've been staying overnight to make sure that the nurses are doing their job and that his pain does not get too out of control. And I just have to vent for a moment. The lady staying in the room next to my dad's is an older woman who has apparently been there for over a month. And whenever she needs something, instead of using the nurse-call button that is inches from her hand, she yells out. Over and over and over. I've walked by the nurse's station and heard them on the speaker talking to her in her room, telling her that she needs to stop yelling and that she's disturbing other patients. For some reason, this little incident gives me a mix of emotions. Its funny, sad, annoying, disturbing all at the same time. One thing that I really hate about the hospital is that the patients doors always seem to be open, exposing old people in hostpital beds in very revealing gowns. And they don't seem to care or notice when their gowns are, well, open. So several times I've walked by and seen way too much of the old man two doors down from dad.

As you can see I'm trying to keep my sense of humor...

while she was sleeping.

Well, even though it seems I'm the only one reading this funny little thing I'm going to keep at it.. Ava's napping at the moment. This is when the house gets really quiet and the laundry gets done (sometimes, I've had to re-wash one load that's been in the washing machine for a few days. Yuck). It's also when I'm free to relax for a few minutes. Not that it takes a whole lot of effort to take care of a three month old. But lately she's been fussy. I think she's teething way early. The signs are pretty clear- excess drool, chewing on her hands ferociously, slight fever, and did I mention amazing amounts of drool? My step-dad is a dentist and he felt around on her bottom gums and confirmed that she could have one or two little teeth popping through at any time. I just wish she could hold on to things better because I have one of those orange gummy rings with the liquid inside- everybody's favorite baby toy, I still love to squeeze it!

Anyway, when she's awake the house is filled with sounds of her talking and screeching and me talking to her in a really cheerful tone of voice. That part can be pretty exhausting. Matt and I came to an agreement last night that he would put her down at night Sunday through Thursday and I would get up with her in the morning so he could sleep in. Then Friday and Saturday night I would put her down and he would get up with her in the morning. I think it's really fair because he works all week, so he deserves the extra rest in the mornings. Plus I like getting up and drinking coffee on the front porch with Ava...

My dad is having some pretty serious tests done tomorrow. His cancer has been back for a while, so they are doing a bone scan, CT scan, and some chest x-rays. He'll be in the hospital all day starting at 6:30 in the morning. I'm not sure what they are going to find. I feel like my optimism is wearing thin and that reality is sinking in. It's tough, but I don't let myself feel a lot for some reason. I guess I'm used to being a rock for people and I don't allow myself to be weak. When Matt's mom died I really had to focus on him, so I haven't focused on me for a while.

There's the baby...

Anybody out there?

Well, I've been writing on this blog for a little bit now and I'm starting to feel like it's sort of a waste of time. I know that blogs are supposed to be a sort of online journal, but I have to say I prefer curling up in a comfy chair and writing in a real one. Anyway, I guess whatever form of outlet I can get is good enough.
Today was pretty uneventful.
I got up around eight this morning and had some coffee on the front porch. This was probably the best part of my day- my few moments before Ava and Matt wake up. This is when I try to collect my thoughts and brainstorm about the future. But this morning all I could do was stare at some squirrels...
It's not that I am unappreciative(sp?) of my life, I just wish I knew where it was going to go next. We're still waiting to hear back from the fire department. Matt's second interview was almost two months ago, and now it's just a waiting game. I just really want to know one way or the other. I hope he makes it on, he would be really great at that job- there's pretty much nothing else that he wants to do.
I'm still pondering my next move. I've only got a couple of weeks before my summer class starts. Right now the only thing that I do during the day is take care of Ava, which is really nice. But it does get lonely sometimes. You can't really have meaningful conversation with a three month old. Believe me, I try. All she does is smile and squeak at me.
Anyway.. thanks for stopping by
cass

Exciting? Creative?

So, over the course of the past year I have found myself at a crossroads. Of course, I have had some life-changing experiences (buying a home, having a baby), but one thing always seemed to remain the same. I've always wanted to be a teacher- until now. It could be that I'm just getting burned out on school; I've been going for five years and have yet to earn a degree (I place the blame entirely on the requirement for math credits no matter what degree you are seeking. I hate math, I failed three times before I finally got the one required math class passed. Ouch). And over the course of my college career I've only changed my major twice. The first time I changed from Elementary Ed to Dental Hygiene because I let myself be talked into it by a girl that was really convincing. So, I worked at a dentist's office for about nine months and decided that I didn't want to be hunched over, flossing people's teeth all day. Back to Education it was, only this time I opted for Secondary English Ed. The only problem is that you have to jump through some flaming hoops in order to get an Education degree. It just seems that it takes so much work and that I'll end up doing something that pays less most jobs.

Not that it's all about the money...

I'm not trying to come across as materialistic, but I believe that teachers are some of the hardest working and least paid professionals out there. So, lately I've been pondering the idea of graduating with a degree in English with a minor in Psychology. That brings me to the difficult part- what about a job... Well, recently a friend told me about a school in Tulsa that offers a condensed Master's degree program for counseling. It's only one night a week for two years. It's been at the forefront of my mind lately. The possibility to help people weed through some of the things that hold them back would be amazing. But, is this what I really want to do- or am I letting myself be influenced by someone else's ideas again? I just don't know.
At the moment, I've been staying home with sweet little Ava and I have to admit, it's been really nice to not work. My dream would be to stay home with my kids until they are school age and then figure out what to do with me. All I really want is to tap into that creativity that I just know is inside me. And make money doing it. I would love nothing more than to express myself, care for my children, and help other people all while experiencing the fullness of joy that is to be had. I mean, I love Bath and Body Works, but that is not a career...

So, what then?

Any insight would be greatly appreciated- there are people out there who know me well enough to give me objective "hints" and ideas...
cass

Happy Mother's Day to me!!

Well, it was officially a great mother's day. Matt and I went to church with Ava, as it was also baby dedication day. We stuck her in a very cute cotton dress with a perfect little white sweater. She's usually in easy little onsie's, so it's always really fun to get her dressed up and looking like a little doll. They did the dedications at the end of the service and Ava was the best behaved child up there! In fact, I was so distracted by this other mom trying to wrangle her child- literally, wrangle! He was kicking his feet and waving his arms and thrasing- that I missed everything that the pastor said. But it was probably really special! After church we had the whole family over to our house to grill out. Luckily Ava slept most of the time. If she had been awake she would have been passed around a ton and that always wears her out...

Oh, and there was chocolate cake. But I was good.

There's still a piece sitting on my kitchen counter waiting for me. I've done my best to hide it and avoid devouring it in one or two bites. It's grandma Kirk's chocolate cake. Let me elaborate- she makes it from a box, but uses milk instead of water and adds vanilla. It's by far the best cake I've ever had... I'm even trying to come up with some sort of task I can perform in order to deserve the cake as a reward.

Is that a bad idea?

-cass

I thought I was the only one...

So, I did it. Thursday evening I met my mom in the Weight Watchers parking lot and walked on in for my first meeting. I have to admit I was a little nervous. Especially when I saw the scales and all of the people weighing in before me. But I stepped up there and did it. And it's really great how they do it. They print a little sticker and put it on this card. It shows your current weight and how close you are to your initial goal of 10 percent.

I lost one pound.

But, hey, I think that's pretty great seeing as I just got started three days before the meeting... So, we all gathered inside the meeting room and got started. There was even another new mom in there with her little baby (very cute, her hair stood straight up like duck fluff). There were people there that had lost over 70 pounds! Pretty awesome. I mean, it wasn't anything that left me feeling like running five miles, but I know it's going to take some time. This is something that I know is going to take me a while, they always say that it takes nine months to gain all the weight, so it will take about that time to lose it all. I'm hoping for faster results, but we'll see. I've felt pretty good so far, except that we went to Hideaway Pizza tonight. Ouch. Anyone who knows me knows that pizza is my vice. Well, pizza and coffee. But tonight it was just sweet, sweet pizza. Hey, that's what allowance points are for!

That's all for now
Cass

Let's get the ball rolling...

Ok, ok. A blog. I know. It's one of my friend's least favorite word in the English language. It's something I never thought I would have. But with a little inspiration (thank you, Hailey!) and a desparate need for some sort of creative outlet, I thought I would give it a shot. First, a little about me.

I am in love, with a 3 month old.

It's my little girl, Ava Lynn, and she has me completely wrapped around her sweet little pinkie. I swear that being a mother is one of the most rewarding things that I have done with my life this far, even though I've only been at it for several weeks. But some things happened as I was growing and incubating this little one inside me.

• I had the sudden urge to eat various weird things, ie. McDonald's Dollar Menu McChicken sandwiches, toast with strawberry jelly (which I craved every time I walked past the toaster), anything lemon flavor, and easymac.
• My legs, arms, feet, hands and face swelled to unrecognizable size. Let me illustrate further- I had to wear flip-flops all winter, i had to cut my wedding ring off with wire-cutters, and I have calf stretchmarks, yes! stretchmarks on my CALVES from their expansion with the insane water weight.
• I gained about fifty pounds. Most of this was water because I lost 35 pounds in TEN DAYS after my little sunshine arrived.

I mean, to myself, I was unrecongnizable in pictures (and the mirror at times). Needles to say, I've got about 30 pounds of weight, real weight, to go. This is partially the reason for my new found blog desire.

So, I joined Weight Watchers.

I know, just the words have a "mom-tone" to them. But, I guess since I'm a mom now, this applies to me too. I just always thought of it as something that "other" people did. Now I'm an "other"...

I go to my first meeting on Thursday. And I've been told by my friend, Leslie, that I should drink massive quantities of caffeine in order to keep up with the level of enthusiasm that will knock me over at this meeting. But that would be too many points...

Well, we'll see how it goes...

Cass